Page 52 of The Omega Slave

Chapter twenty-two

Kamir woke and immediately regretted it. Something tight scraped under his jaw and he raised a hand in bewilderment to find some sort of metal collar surrounding his neck. At the same time, he blinked his eyes to focus and realized he was in a room he’d never seen before, certainly not his own chamber. He forced himself to remember and glanced down at his hands. Each nail had caked blood under it, and he stared in dawning horror.

It was meant to be anillusion. She’d said so. But he hadn’t trusted her even then. Had his dragon really come forth and…Blood. Death. Nausea swam in his insides, and he swallowed down his dry throat with difficulty. A covered jug sat on a small side-table, but there was no cup or glass. He could drink from the jug if he trusted what was in it. He’d drunk the blood of the gods and that’s when everything had gone wrong. It had been drugged. That much was certain, but he didn’t remember much afterwards.

Kamir closed his eyes. No, no, he did. The screams, the blood, thecarnage. How had that been an illusion? His heart beat like awild thing, and he clasped his hands together to stop them from shaking.

Where was Mansala? Had his uncle imprisoned him?Please let him be safe.

The door abruptly swung open with a crash and guards poured into the small space. His gaze fell on his cousin Damatrious, dressed in full battle armor, and he scrambled to his feet.

“Cousin, I—”

“Silence,” Damatrious thundered, and Kamir quieted in shock. A clerk stepped into the small room and unfurled a scroll. With a curt nod from Damatrious, he began to read.

Kamir Rahanne Saad Anslar of Rajpur. You are charged with the unlawful killing of his Lordship Iskar of Sanjeveli, seven members of the ruling assembly, and a further six citizens of Rajpur.

“What? No. I would never. I-Iskar?” Kamir stammered.His cousin?Damatrious’s elder brother? “No, I—”

“I bid you to remain quiet,” Damatrious spat again. He slid his sword from its scabbard and took a menacing step forward, his eyes full of rage. “But I also beg you to give me a reason and I will end this right now.”

Kamir stared at him in bewilderment, his mind whirling. Iskar?Fourteen?Goddess,please no. He thought back to the day his dragon had first appeared. Veda had insisted he wasn’t the one that had hurt people. He hadn’t killed all those slaves. Those guards. That the wounds had been inflicted to cover up blade injuries, but what if she’d been wrong?

The clerk carried on reading, but Kamir barely heard him.

You will present yourself at the twelfth bell this night to hear witness statements and then receive the judgement of the ruling assembly.Should the majority of the assembly find you guilty, you will be purified by fire in the presence of the goddess as is the law.

Ordered this ninth day of Khala by Damatrious Anslar of Sanjaveli, Acting Holy Emir of Rajpur.

He didn’t know how he managed to stay on his feet until they had all left and the door closed behind them. It explained the collar. If he changed into his dragon, the collar would choke him. He knew the collar was made from ivory carbide and was reputedly indestructible. It was also rare, and he had no idea where they had found the materials, and it took weeks in a dense furnace to even shape it.

Which gave him a little focus. Ivory carbide tookweeksto shape. They wouldn’t have had a collar of it just lying around. That made no sense. Of course, his uncle had been planning for just this, but in that case, where did Elainore fit in? Damatrious had never mentioned his father, which meant Gabar must be alive.

Kamir thought hard and tried to still his racing thoughts.Concentrate.Was Damatrious capable of a coup? He was only acting emir because his elder brother was dead, supposedly by Kamir’s hand. But who else would gain from this? Not Gabar. Gabar needed Kamir alive as a figurehead so he could rule, if Elainore was to be believed. The last thing he would want would be to hand over the crown to either of his sons until he had shaped them and had his fill of power. None of it made any sense, with one exception.

And Kamir’s sight blurred with moisture.

Him.That Kamir’s dragon had really killed all those people. Thathe’dreally killed all those people.

An illusion hadn’t caused death. An illusion hadn’t seen innocents ripped apart. That had been him. He held his hands up and looked at the caked blood. There was much more on his soul. Kamir felt the fissure tear in his chest and rip apart his heart.It had been him.He had killed all those people. He’d nearly drowned in rivers of crimson, and wished he had.

He would be sentenced to death this night and it was fitting. All these weeks he had tried to bring forth his dragon, and now it was the last thing he wanted. He would go to his death as the monster he was.

He bit back a sob and imagined Tsaria. What was he doing right now? Surely they should have gotten back to the palace? Maybe he was sharing a meal with Attiker or taking a bath. Was he thinking of Kamir at all? Or was he just grateful to have escaped?

He couldn’t stop the solitary tear that trailed down his cheek. It was done. Funny, but he’d never expected to live a long life. He’d spent as much of his youth trying to remain unnoticed. Expecting any day for a brother to be born, followed by his own death. He imagined he would suffer a fatal accident of some sort. He had hoped to finish documenting the unvarnished history of Rajpur but that would be someone else’s task now, if it was ever completed.

He wished the twelfth bell would come faster.

The only people Kamir saw for the rest of the evening were slaves that came with wine he had no choice but to drink and food he couldn’t stomach. He’d tried to speak to one, but he had withdrawn without even looking at Kamir. When had he last eaten? At the inn, he recalled, where he’d spent those precious hours in with Tsaria.

Tsaria was safe, though. His sister too. He knew Draul wouldn’t let any harm come to her.

He tried not to think about what was to come.Purified by fire in the presence of the goddess.Old school. Executions hadn’t happened like that in hundreds of summers, but then an emir hadn’t unlawfully killed another of high rank in centuries.

The eleventh bell sounded and Kamir banged his head back on the wall in time to the strikes. None of this mattered, really. He was going to die. He had killed so many people and he deserved to die for it.

“Highness.”

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